


Hello, I Love You (Won't You Tell Me Your Name)

by Neontrend



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Cheating, Eventual mature rating will apply, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neontrend/pseuds/Neontrend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Therese is the guitarist in a band. Carol just so happens to be looking for a band to manage under her ex husband's record label.</p><p>Safe to say their relationship is less than professional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a song by The Doors. But you already knew that.

 

Therese gripped the neck of her guitar, her fingers pressed down hard on the strings. The crowd was a dull roar from the other side of the curtain and her pulse jumped and spiked with every shout. They had never played in front of an audience this big before, in fact, they mainly played at small house shows with maybe twenty people on a good night. Those still caused her nerves to flair and she had missed a few cues because the sound of her heart hammering in her chest was so loud she couldn’t hear the music they had been playing.

This was their moment, Richard, their lead singer and her sort of boyfriend, had been assuring them for the past few days. He seemed confident that this was the start of building a career, giving them a momentum they desperately needed if they wanted to make this something more than a hobby. Therese just prayed she wouldn’t be the one to wreck it.

A rough pat on the back startled her into the present and when she spun around, Dannie was grinning like he didn’t know what the word nervous even meant.

“You ready for this?” He asked and she could see him bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Uh, yeah. Can’t wait. I mean this is a big deal,” Therese said, forcing the stutter in her voice down. She wanted to tell him she was afraid of throwing up before the opening song, but his excitement was palpable and ruining that seemed unfair.

“Damn right it is!” He shouted. “You are going to be amazing, you know. That song you wrote is going to make those people forget every other band they hear tonight!”

Her cheeks burned – she had never figured out how to take compliments well. The song he apparently was so enthusiastic for was exactly  what gave her the biggest wave of anxiety. It was personal and the only reason she’d even shared it with the group was because Dannie had walked in on her playing it alone in her room one night and hadn’t stopped talking about it since. She’d asked him not to mention it when they walked into practice the next day, but he was insistent that keeping it from them was cruel. It became the closer to their set immediately after that.

“Thanks,” Therese said, giving him a smile that twitched at the corner of her lips. “I hope they like it as much as you do.”

Dannie threw his arm around her shoulder, “How could they not?”

With that, he gave her a light squeeze and walked back to his bass, finishing a last sound check before it started. She tried a deep breath and it caught in her lungs.

Five minutes passed excruciatingly slow, the seconds drawing out while the world zipped around her. Then, a woman with short, perfectly styled hair and horn rimmed glasses shouted that they were on. Therese felt the muscles in her legs go stiff and she couldn’t will them to take even one step forward. She watched Genevieve – Viv if you weren’t a fan of being punched – smacking her drum sticks above her head, arms pumping in what Therese could only assume was pure adrenaline. She envied it.

“Hey,” a voice, annoyed and one she didn’t recognize. “Belivet! Get moving!”

Therese was startled, both by the snarl the girl with the horn rimmed glasses could muster and the fact that she knew her last name. She didn’t want to be forcefully moved by the girl, so she complied, walking slowly and gripping her guitar again like a buoy keeping her afloat in the sea.

The lights were blinding and the crowd was a wave of noise threatening to knock her over. She looked to Dannie who threw her a wink and she closed her eyes, inhaling hard.

“We are The Price of Salt!” She heard Richard yell. “Hope you fuckers aren’t too drunk to listen to another band tonight!”

The consensus was apparently a staggering no and she tried to swallow her heart back down from where it had lodged in her throat. It felt like a countdown and she was there and she couldn’t run now.

“Alright! Let’s go!”

Viv started the drum line and Therese’s pulse found the beat – she strummed and the sound was like a shock down her spine. She opened her eyes; she felt like a different person sprung from her flesh.

* * *

 The crowd loved it, Therese watched them sway and move like they were in a trance. Her nerves had not left her completely but they were only a dull buzz beneath her skin. By the time the last song – her song – was about to begin she felt them spike back up again. It helped knowing the crowd was on their side now, but it was still the first time anyone would hear it beside the people on stage. The last twenty minutes had been kind of incredible and it would be slightly devastating to have her song be what wrecked it.

Richard belted out the final note of the song preceding her dread. Therese was caught in the applause for a moment before a hush settled over the room.

“Alright guys, this is our last one for the night,” Richard lamented and the crowd voiced their agreement with general sounds of upset. “I know, I know. But we are going to leave you on a pretty awesome note!”

Richard pointed to Therese and she nearly fainted as all eyes shifted to her. “My girl right here wrote this next one and you’re about to have it stuck in your heads for a week!”

Therese attempted a grin that came off nonchalant and wondered if she looked like an asshole, her thoughts consumed by images of herself shoving Richard off the stage. She took a step forward and played the opening chord without any more preempt. She watched Richard tug the mic close to his lips and begin to sing her words with a reverence that made her feel a quiet confident. The feeling rushed through her and she let herself move to it – albeit reserved.

When Therese finally gathered the guts to look out at the crowd, see the reaction to something personal to her, she saw smiles and people nodding along with her to the beat. It made her heart swell. She scanned the faces, collecting their looks of enjoyment to maybe help her bypass the near panic attack she suffered backstage, next time – when she saw gray eyes staring up at her.

The woman looked so out of place in this sea of twenty-somethings in their full hipster gear, sweating hard behind thick beards and thicker framed glasses. She was beautiful, stunning, iridescent, with her blonde hair and her full lips, painted a blood red, turned up at the corner in a half smile. Therese had never felt the world shift beneath her feet, but those eyes cutting through to her soul made her wonder if anything would ever be the same again.

It took her several long moments to realize she had stopped playing all together.

Her heart jerked as time began to go on again and literally every eye in the room was on her. The heat radiating from her face could have melted solid steel and she’d never wanted to disappear from existence more in her short life. Viv was giving her a look of pure, unadulterated, murder and she could faintly hear Dannie’s hysterical laughter over the blood pumping in her ears.

“My bad,” was all she could manage to croak into her mic before attempting to resume playing like it hadn’t happened. The crowd laughed, Viv sighed, long and dramatic, and Richard was staring at her with an unreadable expression. Had he seen her lose her grasp on reality over that woman? Or, more likely, was he pissed that she had, as predicted, fucked this up.

Once the moment had died down - though Therese would be having nightmares about it for the remainder of her life - it seemed that everyone was back into the flow of the music. When she was sure she could keep playing without another blackout, she returned her gaze to where the woman had been. She was gone. Therese wondered why she felt an actual ache in her chest.

The song ended, everyone cheered and it was deafening and gratifying even while her ears still burned with embarrassment. She lifted her hand in a halfhearted wave before darting off to the shelter of backstage. Before she could even let out a sigh of relief that it was finally over, Richard and Viv were on her heel. They both wore matching expressions of anger and confusion.

“Therese, what in the hell was that?” Viv demanded, stomping her booted foot for emphasis.

“Well, I – Umm,” Therese didn’t know what to say. She had momentarily fallen in love with a woman, probably twice her age and wealth, on eye contact? Yes, that wasn’t completely insane.

“You looked like you were about to have a stroke, or something,” Richard thankfully interrupted her oncoming stammering. “I thought you were going to pass out.”

The thought of the object of her temporary lapse in sanity seeing her looking like she was, ‘about to have a stroke’, as Richard so eloquently put it, made her retch.

“Hey, T, are you ok?” Dannie had now joined their impromptu circle of interrogation, followed closely by his brother Phil, who was tripping over his guitar’s chord to keep pace.

“You looked like you were having a stroke out there!” Phil added and Therese felt her head nearing an explosion.

“I’m fine!” She shouted. “I was nervous about people hearing my stupid song and I choked, ok?”

The group took simultaneous steps back from her, like she had actually detonated. What else could she say in her defense? At least it wasn’t entirely untrue.

“The song was really great,” Richard offered, attempting to reassure her but only making the anger rise in her veins.

“It doesn’t matter,” Therese said through clenched teeth. “I messed it up and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

It was apparent she didn’t feel like discussing the incident further and the boys let up instantly, nodding in their acquiescence and turning to give her space. Richard paused, giving her a long look which she waved off.

“I’m fine, Richard. Really.”

He gave her a tight smile and followed Dannie and Phil to begin packing up their gear. Viv still stood in front of her, arms crossed tight over her chest and a look of general disdain on her face. Therese opened her mouth to give her another apology before Viv spun on her heel and walked over to the others.

That sigh finally escaped her lips once they had gone. She wanted to feel bad, she really did. She would. It just seemed that all she could focus on feeling now was a mixture of wonder and desperation.

Who was that woman? Why had she felt more alive in those seconds of holding her stare than she had in years? It was like Therese had known her, even though she was sure they had never met. She couldn’t have forgotten eyes like that in a lifetime.

She had to find her - but what would she say?

_Hello, yes, I know you don’t know me but I was wondering if you believe in love at first sight._

Therese moved to find her open guitar case and knelt to place the instrument inside its velvet lining with shaking hands. She closed the cover with a snap. When she stood, her eyes found the steps leading down to the concert floor, to the crowd still buzzing with excitement over the next band, to the woman who knocked the breath from her lungs.

It was like something beyond her control tugged her forward, and who was she to deny fate?

Therese stepped onto the sticky floor, into the mass of people, and searched for blonde hair and gray eyes.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Carol knew it was too early, felt it in the quiet and the pale blue morning light just seeping through the curtains. It was one of those days she had no excitement to traverse.

Harge had called the day before and practically begged her to meet him at his office in downtown LA, which was a bitch to drive to in the first place. The call was as brief as she could make it, full of curt replies and a rushed tone. These days speaking to her ex-husband about anything not concerning their daughter was exhausting. She had no desire to see him, but he was insistent, claiming some urgency she did not believe or care for in the least. The only reason she had finally, begrudgingly, agreed was because she didn’t think he would let her off the phone until she did.

She would give him ten minutes and if he even began with his usual, thinly veiled, attempts at reconciliation, she would leave. No arguments, just walk out. They had a responsibility to remain civil, for Rindy’s sake. That didn’t mean she was opposed to slamming the door on him, if need be.

When she finally cracked open one bleary eye, her face still half buried in her pillow, she saw Rindy, curled up on the other side of the bed. She was lying on her side, little hands holding blankets up to her chin and staring at her. Carol instinctually reached out to put a hand on her daughter’s cheek.

“Sweet heart, did you sleep here?” Carol asked, already knowing the answer before Rindy silently nodded her head yes.

“Did you have the nightmare again?”

Rindy had been having nightmares since she and Harge finalized their divorce in the spring. She was too young to really comprehend what their separation meant and it had been the most heart breaking first few months, trying to explain why mommy and daddy couldn’t live together anymore. When the nightmares began, Carol had been insistent on some kind of therapy – no child should be left to wallow in a sadness they couldn’t name. Harge was resistant, at first, claiming some kind of ridiculous aversion to ‘shrinks’ messing with his kid’s head. That argument was almost worse than that over Carol’s infidelity. He finally agreed when Rindy crawled into his bed late one night crying.

Rindy let out a quiet ‘mhm’, her eyes wet like she had been crying or was about to. Carol gathered her daughter up in her arms, pressing her forehead to Rindy’s. Sadness welled in Carol, moving through her in heavy waves. Seeing Rindy like this, it shattered her. There was no other way to describe it.

“I’m sorry, my darling. I know those dreams are scary but they aren’t real. You’re ok,” Carol whispered, wishing more than anything she could make them go away. “Do you want to go back to sleep? You can stay here in mommy's bed."

Rindy shook her head, “I’m not sleepy.”

Carol smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want to get up and have blueberry pancakes?”

Rindy’s grin at that was wide and happy, sending warmth through Carol’s chest. She watched her daughter sit up with an excited bounce.

“Can I have the smiley kind?” Rindy asked.

“You can have whatever you want, my special girl.”

* * *

 After breakfast, Florence, her maid, arrived around seven and Carol let Rindy watch cartoons in the living room with the older woman while she showered and got ready to meet Harge. She took her time choosing an outfit – a black and red pant suit, something commanding - and carefully putting on her makeup. She had no interest in looking good for Harge but she had no desire to rush over to see him. The longer she could keep Rindy here and delay whatever important business he had with her, the better.

Once the city began to bustle with the telltale noise of morning commutes and people starting their day, Carol walked downstairs to get Rindy dressed and ready to go. She let Rindy pick her clothes – to an extent. Her only stipulation was that she matched and that she didn’t wear the same Frozen shirt every single day. When Rindy asked Carol to brush her hair, she happily obliged; pulling her daughter onto her lap and having her practice counting each brush stroke.

By the time they were finished and ready to leave, Carol grabbed Rindy’s packed bag of things to take with her to Harge’s for the weekend and told Florence to get the grocery shopping done while she was gone. Abby was coming over for dinner later and the contents of her fridge consisted mainly of old takeout and wine.

Florence gave her a look when she mentioned Abby and Carol briefly wondered why she hadn’t let the judgmental old woman go when Harge moved out.

The drive was long, as expected, but Rindy sang to the radio, loud and with her own made up lyrics, the whole way and that made the never ending traffic completely bearable.

By the time they arrived at Aird Records, the sun had risen high and the day was no longer in the early stages of oncoming heat. It was at least in the nineties and when Carol swung open her car door she was hit with a wave a hot air. She nearly regretted wearing something long-sleeved with layers but she had a certain appearance to uphold. She got Rindy out of the back seat and handed her keys to the valet. He greeted her as Mrs. Aird and it made her cringe.

They rode the elevator to the top floor and with a ding the doors opened to reveal Harge’s secretary frantically typing at her computer with the phone pressed to her ear.

“Aird Records, please hold. Aird Records, please hold,” she repeated, over and over. It was always busy like that around here, Carol knew she’d have to wait a moment before the poor girl could spare her a glance.

She knelt down to fix the ribbon she’d tied in Rindy’s hair when she spotted a pair of black leather Armani shoes. She looked up and Harge was beaming.

“My two favorite girls!” He said, swooping Rindy up in his arms and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Carol sighed, putting on her best, patient smile.

“Hello, Harge.”

He moved forward to embrace her and she put out an arm to hold him back. The annoyance in his eyes was apparent but she knew he wouldn’t say anything around Rindy.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come,” he said, turning towards his office with Rindy still in his arms. “I’ve got lunch coming if you are hungry.”

They entered the enormous room, sunlight pouring in from the back wall that was one large window looking down on the city. It was still just as Carol had decorated it years before, when he had first bought out this building. Minimal furniture with a long black leather couch in front of his desk and a mini bar in the back for celebrating deals with his clients over a drink or when Harge wanted to down half a bottle of scotch for no real reason. Gold and platinum records lined the walls – definitely more gold than platinum. She glanced at the ones she had helped him earn with a strange sense of yearning.

“No, thank you. We had breakfast before coming,” she replied. Hunger had begun to gnaw at her stomach but she still planned on avoiding anything that would require her here longer than necessary.

Harge set Rindy on his desk, opening the drawer Carol knew he kept full of candy for her and gave her a pink lollipop, before sitting down and motioning for her to do the same. Carol watched Rindy shriek with delight as she tore open the candy and sat on the couch opposite them.

“So what is this about?” Carol asked, crossing her legs. “I know it was just _imperative_ that I come down here.”

Harge just watched her for a moment before speaking, “It is a business proposition, Carol. You don’t have to be on the defense.”

She cocked her eyebrow, leaning back slightly into the cushions. “What kind of business?”

“Well, you know we’ve been – _struggling_ lately in the new talent department,” Harge said, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on the desk. He looked off put, like he hadn’t wanted to admit what Carol already knew. The last three artists Harge signed had turned out to be big, publicly known, failures. He didn’t even tell her about it, she read it on the covers of magazines in line at the store and saw it on the celebrity gossip shows Abby occasionally forced her to watch.

“What about it?”

He was looking anywhere but at her, now. Seeming to find something interesting to stare at on the wall to his left. Whatever he was going to ask, he didn’t want to. She wondered if he would tell her they needed to sell the house, or that he wasn’t making enough money to put Rindy in the private school they had picked out next year.

“I want you to come back to work.”

Carol jolted in surprise but tried not to let it show. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“You can’t be serious, Harge,” Carol said, her tone incredulous. “What about that sounds like a good idea to you?”

“You were the best. Why wouldn’t I want you to come back?” he replied, finally looking her in the face.

She cheated on him and they were divorced. He was a controlling lunatic when it came to work and nearly every other aspect of their lives – and they were _divorced._ She could think of plenty of good reasons why it was a horrible idea to work together again.

“I haven’t worked in years. I don’t even have contacts anymore,” she said, instead. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I were to.”

“We both know that never stopped you before,” he said. “Look, I wouldn’t even be asking if I wasn’t…”

He trailed off and Carol leaned forward, “What? Desperate?”

She watched him huff, knowing he was taking a blow to his pride and trying not to enjoy it.

“Is that really necessary? This isn’t easy for me to admit and I -”

“And you what?” Carol cut him off sharply. “You hate to admit that turning me into your little housewife when I could have been here, making you money, was a mistake?”

Harge’s eyes narrowed and Carol could see the vein in his temple, the one she knew all too well, jutting out. He was angry and she didn’t care. The resentment of him keeping her away from a career she had built herself was still fresh and she wasn’t about to let him forget it now that he knew she was right.

“Are you really going to bring that up, now? When I’m forced to come crawling to you like a God damn dog and beg for your help. You know how that makes me feel?” his voice rose and Carol knew he would start yelling soon.

“Yes, I’m aware that asking a woman for help is an entirely emasculating experience for you,” Carol said, standing with a click of her heels. “But I’m not going to sit here and have this fight in front of our daughter.”

Harge blinked and looked to Rindy like he had just remembered she was sitting right in front of him. She looked like she wasn’t sure what was going on, picking at her sucker instead of looking up when she was mentioned. Carol watched Harge deflate, but only slightly.

He opened his mouth to reply, then quickly shut it again. Instead, she watched him tap a button on his desk. The door opened moments later and she turned her head to see his secretary from earlier walk in. She briefly wondered how the girl had managed to get away from that barrage of phone calls.

“Yes, Mr. Aird?”

“Tanya, will you take my daughter down to the daycare?” Harge asked, then turned to Rindy with a smile. “And make sure they put Frozen on for her.”

Rindy perked up at that and hopped off the edge of the desk, skipping over to the secretary. Harge wasn’t a bad father, she thought as she watched her daughter walk away. Perhaps she should try to be a little more lenient towards him.

Carol quickly promised to come down and say goodbye to Rindy before she left and turned back to Harge once the door had shut again.

“Look, I don’t want to fight but I don’t think us trying to work out any type of business right now is a good idea,” Carol said, her voice calm as she slowly sank back to the couch. “We’re still trying to work on our custody plan and everything is just too… fresh, for us to be spending more time together than necessary.”

“I know. I know it’s hard right now but I don’t think having you manage an artist for me would be as difficult as you think,” he replied, looking like he wanted to say something else but changed his mind. “You’d be out on your own more often than not and honestly, Carol – I need you. Almost all the platinum records I’ve got on that wall, I got because of you. If I had any doubt that you wouldn’t be able to pick up right where you left off, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

Carol stayed silent for a long moment, looking again at the records on the wall, remembering how it felt to be in her element; wining and dining clients, strategically plotting appearances, dealing with drama and scandals, helping bring people’s dreams to reality. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about getting back in the business, it just seemed out of the question now with Rindy, and with the possibility of Harge making it impossible to get work at another record label with just a few phone calls. She knew he would be infuriated and act like it was some kind of betrayal on her part if she walked away from his company –  their company.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it,” she said, finally. “But I still don’t think it is a good idea.”

“Ok, that’s fine,” Harge jumped up from his seat and it startled her. “Just - think about it. Can you promise me you will do that at least?”

Carol was ready for this to be done. If any empty promise of compromise would end this, she would once again take the escape route given.

“Sure. I will think about.”

Harge seemed satisfied with that.

When she was getting ready to leave, Harge stopped her at the door, shoving a flyer into her hand. Carol furrowed her brow and looked down at the slightly crumpled paper. She sighed when she realized what it was.

“It’s tonight,” Harge said, an eagerness to his tone. “There are a handful of up and comers. You should check it out. Maybe listening to some new talent will spark your interest in my proposition.”

Carol took a deep breath. She wanted to tell him she had no interest in some locals show or his proposition but didn’t want to trap herself with another argument when she was so close to freedom.

“I’ll think about it,” she said again and walked out the door.

* * *

 “He can’t be serious.”

Carol sat opposite Abby at the outdoor table on her balcony. They had finished dinner and were now working on a third glass of wine when Carol finally brought up her visit to Aird Records earlier that day. She didn’t want to mention it at first; Abby had a connection to Carol’s previous line of work and the culmination of that was still a sore subject for her friend. If it hadn’t been for the slight buzz she was experiencing and the fact that she desperately needed to talk to someone about the absurdity of it all, she probably wouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh, he’s serious,” Carol sighed. “Enough to go so far as to give me some flyer for a concert tonight, thinking I’ll go there and have some change of heart.”

“How can he honestly think you two working together is a good idea?” Abby scoffed. “As usual, he has to try and make himself your only point of reference.”

“He had no idea I had thought about getting back into the business,” Carol interjected. “Not that I’m trying to defend him. I know he is just trying to use me to repair his reputation, now that he's out of options.”

Abby took a long sip, staring out at the sunset over the line of palm trees lining the property. She was thinking about something and after a beat she gave Carol a grin. Mischievous in intent, if Carol knew Abby at all.

“What if we did go tonight?”

A laugh bubbled up from Carol’s throat. “Now who’s being ridiculous?”

“I mean it,” Abby said, setting her glass down on the table. “You said you want to get back in the game. Why not check out some potential candidates to get yourself started?”

“I said I had thought about it, not that I was seriously considering it.”

“I know you, Carol,” Abby said, giving her a look that bore into her and she knew the sentiment was true. “You miss it. You have for a long time. Now you finally have some freedom and the opportunity is looking you in the face! Why shouldn’t you take it?”

Carol couldn’t deny that while raising Rindy was the most incredible experience and what gave her pure joy in her life – she did feel like something was missing. She had loved her career, excelled at it. There had never really been a time she hadn’t wondered why she couldn’t be both a mother and a business woman. Maybe Harge had ingrained his philosophy of her needing to only focus on motherhood deeper in her than she realized.

“And what?” Carol replied after a moment. “I should work with my ex-husband again to fulfill that desire?”

“Maybe not. But – and as much as I absolutely loath saying this – you could find him someone, do what you do flawlessly and make them an overnight sensation, you get your name back out there, and you leave!” Abby said, an excitement building in her. “Hell, I still think you and I could start our own label, like we used to talk about.”

A smile crept onto Carol’s face at that. Once, that had been the dream, though it felt like a lifetime ago, now. Back when they used to sit out late, talking until the sun came up about their own label, producing the kind of music they wanted with no one to convince but themselves. She used to believe it, worked with that happy thought in her head for years.

“That sounds wonderful, it really does. But do you honestly think Harge will let me walk away and start a competing label?”

“Fuck him,” Abby snorted and Carol’s head fell back with another burst of laughter. “You were always the real talent anyway. He just wouldn’t let the world see it. Make them see it, and how can he stop you?”

That was the thing about Abby that Carol always loved; her ability to make anything sound possible, like it was at the tips of her fingers and all she had to do was take it. It was what made them an unstoppable force when Abby had been her promoter.

“Maybe you’re right,” Carol said, feeling Abby’s confidence flowing in her veins.

“Maybe I’m always right,” Abby teased, downing the rest of her wine and slapping her glass on the table with a smack. “Let’s do this, I’m serious. When does the concert start?”

Adrenaline sparked and Carol picked her cellphone up off the table to check the time.

“In an hour.”

“Well,” Abby said with a grin. “Go get ready and let’s go do what we do best.”

The drive to the concert house was filled with laughter and reminiscing about their times on the road together. Carol still wasn’t entirely convinced this was a good idea but she had her best friend by her side and what was one night of reliving the past? Even if that was all it turned out to be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your interest in this little idea I couldn't get out of my head. Hopefully I'll be able to keep updating regularly as long as life doesn't do what it does best and get in the way.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Therese managed to wade through the never-ending sea of people and made it to the bar in the back of the club, she was ready to give up. It had been twenty minutes at least. The band that proceeded them had just finished their set and the last group of the night was setting up. In that time she had been elbowed in the jaw by a man whose style of dancing was flailing his arms and she collided with a drunk girl who spilled half a cup of beer down the front of her shirt. It was disheartening, to say the least.

The bar was surrounded, shoulder to shoulder with people attempting to hail one of the two frantic bartenders to get a drink. Therese couldn’t stand the struggle it took to order anything at bars, she usually hung back and let Richard deal with it. Now, she was alone and needed a drink more than ever.

She forced her small body through two men, twice her size, and made it to the counter. It felt like she was being swallowed up by those taller than her. After a moment she sighed and stood on her toes in an attempt to make herself somewhat noticeable. A man with gauges in his ears the size of her fist gave her a questioning look. He was probably wondering if she was old enough to be there. Therese rolled her eyes.

It would still be a while before someone got around to her and she remembered that her phone had been buzzing every few minutes. She fished the old flip phone from her pocket and saw five missed calls and ten texts. She didn’t have to open it to know they were from Richard. Therese clenched her fist and let out a breath through her teeth. He was worried, she knew that but it still annoyed her that he couldn’t just – give her a minute. They had known each other for nearly two years and she had told him over and over again that sometimes, she needed to be alone. She needed him to give her space and let her be instead of smothering her. She honestly wondered if he was even capable of that.

It bothered her more that voicing her aggravation would be pointless. She would probably be told that she should appreciate having a boyfriend who cared.

Instead of replying to Richard’s barrage of texts, she began tapping out a quick message to Dannie. She wanted to know if they had decided where they were going once the show ended. The band had a tradition of holing up in a dive bar somewhere and drinking until the sun came up. She had never been as enthralled by getting wasted as her friends, usually opting to leave early, but tonight she felt the urge.

The message was typed and Therese was about to hit send when one of the bartenders smacked the counter to get her attention. She jumped, nearly dropping her phone.

“You want something, or what?” he barked.

“Umm,” she hadn’t exactly given it any thought. She wanted something strong but sweet – what was that thing Richard always got her? She couldn’t remember. The man was staring at her like she was wasting precious seconds of his life and she knew if she didn’t pick something now he was never coming back. A group of guys on the opposite side of the bar began shouting that they were actually ready to order. She was about to tell them to fuck off, when she felt someone warm at her side. A perfectly manicured hand reached out to tap on the counter.

Therese knew it was the woman from before without looking.

“Two rum and cokes,” she ordered, calmly. Therese hadn’t thought someone’s voice could be so beautiful.

The bartender grunted and began hastily making the drinks. It felt like time had once again frozen around Therese as she slowly turned to look up at the woman. She was tall and elegant, a black and white dress hugging her form and her blonde hair flowing in loose curls, swept over one shoulder. She looked like she had just stepped out of the cover of a magazine. Suddenly Therese was painfully aware of her dingy red flannel that reeked of beer, of how her sweat had surely smudged her makeup to look like she had two black eyes, that the side of her face was probably red and swollen. A part of her wanted to run but the woman was smiling at her with a mouth as lovely as her pale grey eyes and she was frozen.

“I hope you like those. It’s the only thing they don’t water down to nothing here,” the woman said, flipping a stray lock of hair out of her face.

“I like them,” Therese said, knowing she would like anything if it came from this woman.

“Good. Are you always so indecisive?” she teased and Therese flushed.

The bartender slammed the two plastic cups down on the counter, interrupting before Therese could stammer through a response. The woman raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow before telling him to put the drinks on her tab. He asked for her name and she told him it was under ‘Aird’.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Therese said, scrambling for the cash she kept in her back pocket.

The woman touched her shoulder, light as air but it still sent a tremor down Therese’s spine.

“It’s fine.”

The woman turned to grab their drinks, handing one to Therese which she took from her hand reverently before watching her take a sip of her own. Therese couldn’t help but stare at the red smudge of lipstick she left behind on the rim of her cup.

“I saw you up there, though I think you already knew that,” the woman motioned toward the stage and gave her a playful grin. “You were amazing – up until that little mishap.”

Therese’s cheeks burned, the embarrassment worse now, face to face with this woman, then when she had been on stage. She wanted to say, ‘it was because of you. I’ve never forgotten how to breathe until I saw you’.

“Yeah, I’m not sure what came over me.”

The woman regarded her with a curious look before taking another a sip of her rum and coke. Therese remembered her own drink, cold and dripping with condensation in her hand. She followed suit, guzzling down half its contents in an attempt to alleviate the dryness her mouth and maybe to calm her nerves. The woman was watching her when she finished, her eyes light with amusement.

“Well, despite that, I really enjoyed it. Specifically the last song,” The woman said. “You wrote that?”

“Yes,” Therese blurted. She would write a thousand songs if this woman liked them. “It was the first time we’ve ever played it in our set.”

“Is that why you nearly fell off the stage?”

“No,” Therese replied, honestly.

They regarded each other for a moment. The concert still raged around them, people dancing, singing, drinking – Therese felt vaguely aware of the existence of these things but she was consumed by blonde hair, the sharp line of a jaw, the tiny quirk of a brow. Someone bumped into Therese and she jerked forward, bringing them back to reality.

“Have you recorded a demo?” the woman asked, finally. “I’d love to hear your music again.”

“Yeah,” Therese nodded, happiness blooming in her chest. “We usually sell them out by our van after the show. If you want to come by, I can give you one.”

“I’d be more than happy to buy it,” the woman teased. Therese wouldn’t let her, even if they hadn’t sold a single one all night.

“You bought my drink,” Therese said quickly. “That probably cost three times what we’re selling our demo for.”

The woman tilted her head back in laughter and Therese felt like she might float away with the feeling of it.

“You may want to consider raising the price then.”

Something behind Therese caught the woman’s attention and she watched her hold up a finger and mouth ‘one minute’, to whoever it was. She turned to try and see who it was – her husband? She wasn’t wearing a ring – but couldn’t pick out one person in particular from the crowd.

“Well, it looks like I’ve got to run,” Therese’s heart sank. “But if you’d like, you can give me a call sometime. I really do want that cd of yours.”

The woman reached into a purse that was definitely designer and pulled out a slip of paper. She reached out to press it into Therese’s hand, fingers slowly dragging across the skin of her palm as she pulled away. Everything seemed surreal when Therese lifted the tiny card closer to read the woman’s name, printed along the top in bold ink.

Carol Aird.

“Will you call me?” Carol Aird asked, still calm, with her lips tilted in the same half smile Therese had seen when she first locked eyes with her from the stage.

“Yes. I will,” Therese never meant anything more in her life.

Carol nodded, pleased with her assent, “Then I guess I’ll be seeing you around – I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Therese. Therese Belivet.”

“Therese Belivet,” Carol repeated, like she was testing it on her tongue. “What a lovely name.”

Therese had never heard her own name sound as beautiful as when Carol said it. She wanted to thank her but was stunned into silence.

“Goodbye, Therese.”

“Goodbye, Carol.”

And it was over. Therese watched Carol’s form disappear back into the sea of people, gliding through like they weren’t even there at all. When she was finally out of sight, Therese let out a long breath, one she felt as though she had been holding since their conversation began.

She wondered if she really had been knocked unconscious by that wild elbow and this was all just a dream. It seemed more likely.

The card in her hand felt heavy and she was acutely aware of it between her fingers. She lifted it back up to her eye level, stared at Carol’s name, read it over a few more times, as if she’d ever forget it. It took her a moment to realize there was more writing on the card, beneath the name and phone number.

Aird Records.

Music Manager.

Therese’s heart stopped beating. There was no way. Absolutely no conceivable way she had just been talking to the Carol Aird of Aird fucking records. How did she not realize the name sounded familiar? It had been difficult to focus on anything other than the woman in front of her.

Aird Records wasn’t just some low-level agency. They weren’t the type of company you sign with and watch your career disappear through your fingers as they book you shows at restaurants or opening for a festival long before anyone will actually arrive to see you. Bands that sign with them go on to become the next Coldplay or Arctic Monkeys.

And Carol wanted their demo.

Therese had never run so fast in her life, shoving through the crowd with an urgency that may have scared people out of her way. She had to get outside and find her bandmates. Now she absolutely needed confirmation from someone other than herself that she hadn’t gone crazy.

The cool air of nighttime clung to her sweaty, beer soaked clothes and sent a chill down her spine. The parking lot was alive with people; standing around cars smoking cigarettes, passing around pipes and bottles of liquor, and other bands hustling their merch from the backs of vans. She scanned faces quickly, forgetting where they had parked before the show began. That felt like a different lifetime.

When they were nowhere to be found, she sprinted back further into the lot, her boots, which were a size to big, nearly slipping off her feet as she moved across the asphalt.

“Hey! Therese! Where the hell are you going?” It was Phil.

She skidded to a stop and whipped around to see Dannie and the rest of her friends looking at her with varying degrees of concern. Richard was right in the middle of handing some girl a t-shirt, his mouth hung open in surprise. After a beat, he let go of the shirt and bounded to her, weaving through people and cars.

“Are you okay? Is someone chasing you?” he asked, alarmed.

Therese didn’t reply, just lifted the card in her hand up to his eyelevel and waited.

“What is this?”

She rolled her eyes impatiently, “just read it, Richard.”

At that point the rest of the group had gathered around them, looking on curiously as Richard’s scanned the paper. When he reached the bottom, she saw his eyes grow impossibly wide and he read it again.

“Seriously, Therese – what is this?” he asked again, in quiet disbelief.

Viv sighed, marching up to them before Therese could reply and snatching it from her hand.

“Carol Aird, Music Manager…” Viv looked like she had seen the face of God. “Aird Records.”

All eyes were on Therese, waiting with for an explanation she wasn’t sure how to give. Hearing it out loud, though, solidified that the conversation with Carol had in fact been real. Her nerves lit up and she was sure she would actually pass out this time.

“She said she liked our set,” Therese said, finally. “She told me to call her. She wants our demo.”

Therese blinked and the boys were on her, hugging her so tight she couldn’t breath and practically screaming their excitement in her ear. For a spit second she regretted telling them – wished she had kept Carol to herself – but when Dannie pulled her into his arms and began jumping up and down in pure joy, she knew she had done the right thing.

Viv had stayed back in stunned silence, clutching the card in her hand. It seemed to be taking her a moment to process something this big. When she did, she nearly tackled Therese to the ground, tears welling in her eyes. Their shared happiness spread through Therese and she let herself get lost in it.

They stayed like that for an indefinite amount of time; loud and crazy in their joy. Therese had never been so happy. Their dreams were on the precipice of reality and tomorrow she would call Carol. She wondered which she was more excited for.

 


	4. Chapter 4

When Carol saw Therese on stage, a wave of something ineffable came over her. She had spent the better part of the last few hours wondering where Harge had gotten his information on these so called up and coming bands. Every one she had seen was exactly the same. Generic, with an indie sound that wasn’t new or original in any sense. Each song reminded her of boys at parties, trying to seduce girls with an acoustic guitar and a cover of something considered emotional. It was boring and honestly she would have left after the first two sets, if Abby hadn’t been having the time of her life.

Upon arriving at the concert house, they were greeted by the venue owner himself and told that Mr. Aird had made a call to let them know she was coming. Carol hadn’t been able to hold back her sigh. Of course he had.

This apparently meant instead of fighting through crowds of sweaty twenty-somethings, they would watch the show from the balcony seating. This only meant that they would have chairs and a table to drink at. It wasn’t much better; the place was run down and even its attempts at refinement were lax. Carol had been there once or twice in her earlier days of working for Harge. It was bigger now, but that appeared to be the only renovation they’d made in the last ten years.

Abby, being her usual effervescent self, hadn’t been detoured by any of it. She had obviously stopped paying any attention to the music, in fact, Carol wasn’t sure she’d been listening at any point. Instead, she had been occupied with an interminable amount of alcohol and blatantly flirting with a redhead at the table next to theirs. Carol didn’t mind Abby’s lack of attention to her - it had been so long since her friend had been able to go out and enjoy herself. That and she was always amused and endeared by Abby’s confidence when it came to women.

Carol spent her time looking down at the concert below them with mild interest and a sense of nostalgia she hadn’t been able to shake all night. It felt like another lifetime when she and Abby were the ones in the crowd; drinking and dancing, the thrill of feeling young and eternal, with the rest of their lives a long road ahead of them. The road felt a lot shorter now and possibilities no longer seemed endless. She could take her old job back, travel again and hope for a spark of new life and new experiences. Wondering whether or not she could find those feelings again left her empty rather than full.

It felt like fate when the riff of a guitar shot down her spine and gave her a small piece of that passion she’d wondered if she’d ever find.

“What kind of name is The Price of Salt?” Abby wondered aloud, a brief intermittence from her conversation with the redhead. “What does that even mean?”

Carol stood and Abby watched her with curiosity, through half lidded eyes. “Every band has a bizarre name.”

“Where are you going?” Abby asked as Carol turned towards the stairs that would take her down to the floor.

“I’m going to get a better look at this one,” she replied simply.

Abby straightened in her seat, though Carol could see the slight wobble that spoke of her intoxication. She knew Abby would ask her if she wanted company but something told her she needed to do this alone. Despite being surrounded by people on the floor, it still seemed like she would be able to experience the music better if she were around strangers rather than someone who knew her so well. And who was drunk and would probably talk the entire time instead of listen.

“You can stay,” Carol gave her a quick smile, anxious to move. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“You’re interested in this one,” Abby said, her white teeth glinting in the low lights of the venue. She had an excitement to her tone.

“I could be. I’ll let you know when I get back,” Carol said, winking at her friend before heading for the stairs.

Her heels clicked against the cement, echoing down the stairwell. She could still hear the muffled sounds of the guitar, the thrum of each string carrying through to the curiosity in Carol. She _was_ interested in the band, but the girl on guitar drew Carol forward with an irresistible attraction.

* * *

The set was great. Carol could feel the concurrent energy in those around her as they all looked up at this band from the floor. At first Carol wondered if she was so impressed because the other acts had been abysmal. Looking better by comparison is fine in a small time show like this but if she were to be able to move them up in any sense, she needed tangible talent. She was enjoying it but she hadn’t been entirely sure – until the last song. 

She watched the lead singer point out the guitarist, whom Carol had been had been so mesmerized by throughout the majority of their performance, and divulged that it was a song she had written. The dark, all encompassing, blush at the girl’s cheeks was adorable. Carol couldn’t deny that.

In fact, by the time they announced their last song, Carol was certain she was attracted to the girl, past her immense aptitude for guitar. Though, that did help. The girl was in her early twenties and held a resemblance to her band – an indie-rock look, with her open flannel and shoulder length hair, choppy and dark. A tattoo, indiscernible at Carol’s distance, peeked out from the plain of her shoulder and across her collarbone. Carol felt a sensitivity buzzed beneath the edgy exterior. She could see it in the soft glow of her eyes and in the way she would only glance up at the crowd before staring back her hands as she strummed.

When the song began, Carol watched the girl close her eyes as she played the opening chords. The lead singer started in softly, then he and the girl matched their rhythm, rising and falling with perfect pace. The lyrics struck her – the lilting restlessness of the unknown as you stand on the breadth of adulthood without direction, falling forward. It was immersive, something entirely relatable. It seemed like it was a sign that Carol had been thinking about her own indefinite future and this girl had written a song describing the feeling. She loved it.

Carol felt the corner of her lips curve in a smile, acquiesced to her own full enjoyment – then they locked eyes.

The air was thick between them. Carol was struck by the palpable feeling of it. It was strange, something she couldn’t describe but was clearly attracted to. Again she was drawn to this girl, her curiosity now fully peeked. Long seconds passed and Carol was absolutely sure that she would find this girl after the show. That this was a moment of opportunity she couldn’t pass.

The girl had stopped playing, her hands frozen on her instrument and looking like she might pass out and fall off the stage. Carol watched as the crowd and the band realized this too. She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as the girl gave the most horrified look, rasping into her mic a quick apology before throwing herself back into the song like it hadn’t happened. The moment had passed. It left Carol feeling almost dazed as she also acclimated back to her surroundings. She looked up at the girl again and her eyes were locked on the floor, her jaw tight and her stature rigid. Carol let out a breath before deciding to walk away.

She would return to Abby, let her know of her newfound desire to find out more about this band. That she had potentially found what she had been looking for and something more. Something she couldn’t decipher just yet, but it was there between her and this girl.

Exhilaration fluttered through her as she strode through the crowd.

* * *

Abby groaned, loud and miserable as she opened the sliding glass door onto the balcony and sunlight hit her for the first time all morning. Carol turned to her from her seat, a bemused grin on her face and a lit cigarette in her hand. As expected, Abby had overindulged last night and was now suffering from a hangover that left her exhausted and repelled by any and all light. It was a familiar experience to her, Carol was sure. When they were younger, this was the guaranteed start to their every day. But it had been a long time since then and since Abby had gotten entirely wasted. After the concert, Carol and that saint of a redhead Abby had been chatting up all night, had to essentially carry her back to the car. Surprisingly, the redhead had taken Abby’s phone out of her purse and tapped out her number, asking Carol to make sure she called her the next day.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Carol beamed. “You’re looking lovely.”

Abby’s hair was a wreck and in the shade of her hand attempting to block the sun from her eyes, Carol could see last night’s makeup still on her face. Carol laughed as Abby merely flipped her off in response and flopped into her usual chair. When she sat, Carol pushed a plate toward her, full of the muffins she’d busied herself with making while waiting for Abby to roll out of bed.

“You should eat something, or we may end up in a repeat of last night,” Carol teased. When they left for the concert, they had both been hoping for a rush of nostalgia. It ended up happening, but unfortunately more in the form of Carol having to hold Abby’s hair back while she vomited in the bathroom stall of the club. It felt like they were sixteen again and while Carol was slightly embarrassed, she was also beyond amused by the whole ordeal.

She just wished it hadn’t happened while she was in the middle of a conversation with Therese.

“I don’t think I can even think about food right now,” Abby muttered, laying her head down on her arms. “I am never drinking again, Carol. I know I’ve said it before but this time you can hold me to it.”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I was planning on making mimosas later and it’s so boring drinking alone,” Carol lamented, resting her chin on the hand not holding her cigarette.

Abby perked up at that, a look of pure want on her face that made Carol laugh again. “God damn it, there goes my sobriety.”

“I had a feeling you might say that,” Carol said, taking a drag then realizing her friend was still staring at her. “You want that now, don’t you?”

“Yes, please.”

Carol stood, stubbing out her cigarette in the small ashtray on the table. The prospect of spending this morning after with Abby gave her a light feeling. She had feared Abby would be ready to run home and hide in the dark of her own house, as soon as she woke up. Carol didn’t want to spend the day alone, in her big house, with no Rindy. It was still difficult to deal with going from having her daughter with her always, to four or five days a week. She could really use any kind of distraction.

Abby thanked her before laying her head back down on the table and Carol walked inside to make their drinks. She opened the fridge and took out the orange juice Florence had picked up yesterday and slid an unopened bottle of champagne down from the top shelf. She had to keep the alcohol out of Rindy’s reach. Carol paused, missing her daughter, even though it had only been a day.

The champagne flutes, which Carol owned to many of, were set in the cupboard and she took two out with care. She remembered when Harge had bought the large set, claiming it was necessary for him to be prepared to host parties at home. He should have taken them with him when he moved out. God knows, Carol had no need for twenty champagne glasses.

As she poured orange juice into one of the glasses and set a few slices of toast on a plate, to force Abby to eat before drinking - she heard her phone ring in the other room. She had plugged it into the wall in the living room and forgotten about it. The sound sent a rush of anticipation through her. It was still early, maybe around ten, and she had no reason to believe Therese would call so soon, but she couldn’t help the quickness of her steps as she moved to answer it.

Her cell sat on the coffee table buzzing and Carol peered down at it to see if a name was on the screen. It was just a number but it was local. She unplugged it and slid her finger across the glass to answer.

“Hello, this is Carol Aird,” she said, maintaining a casual tone.

“Oh, um – hi,” Therese answered, followed by the sound of something crashing to the ground. “Sorry about that, I may have just dropped a pan.”

Carol smiled as she imagined Therese flittering around the house before she decided to call. Maybe she was in the middle of making breakfast.

“It’s alright,” Carol chuckled, moving to sink into the armchair to her right. “You know, you are very prompt. I like it when someone doesn’t make you wait all day for a call.”

Silence, then one labored gasp of laughter. “That’s good. I was worried you would be busy and I didn’t want to bother you-” another beat, “-am I bothering you? If you’re in the middle of something I can call you back.”

She was so nervous. Carol found it incredibly endearing.

“No, you definitely aren’t bothering me,” she assured. “I’m glad you called.”

“That’s good,” Therese managed and Carol heard more rustling. “I guess - I just wanted to know if you still wanted that demo.”

She sounded hopeful, like she expected Carol would tell her she’d changed her mind. Carol pictured the surprise on Therese’s face when she’d handed her the old business card she had, optimistically, slipped in her purse before leaving for the concert.

“Yes, I am still very interested,” Carol said, running a hand through her hair.

“Really?” Therese said, then quickly backtracked. “I mean, that’s great. I can bring it to you if you want. Whenever is convenient for you, of course.”

Carol laughed before giving pause. She was a little nervous to ask her next question, though she wasn’t sure why. “Actually, I was hoping I could take you out to lunch and pick it up then. Maybe tomorrow, if that works for you.”

“Yes,” Therese responded, immediately. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” Carol said, feeling a small rush of relief and wonder. “Does noon work for you? I’ve got a few errands to run in LA, but I could pick you up around then.”

“Yeah, that’s totally fine. Anytime works for me.”

“Alright then, Therese Belivet,” Carol grinned. “Let me get your address, then I will see you tomorrow.”

She could hear the smile in Therese’s voice as she told her she lived in San Fernando Valley.

* * *

Carol told Abby about her meeting with Therese the next day and she sighed, heavily, leaning back against her chair.

“What? You don’t think it’s a good idea?” Carol asked.

“No, it’s a good idea. It’s just-” Abby looked like she was mulling over her next words, then she sat up again, giving Carol an exasperated look. “Of course you like the one that nearly fell off the damn stage.”

Carol threw her head back, laughing towards the infinite possibilities of the open sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait on this one guys! I was hoping to have it done on Saturday but I had fitting for a bridesmaid dress that took literally forever. anyway, thank you all again for reading and for the awesome words of encouragement! I'm really excited for the story to pick up from here(;


	5. Chapter 5

Therese woke to a pounding headache and Richard kissing her neck – both equally unwanted sensations.

The night before was blurry, slowly coming back to her in images of tequila shots and one horrible instance of drunken karaoke with Phil. She groaned, her body aching with a hangover. Richard mistook it for something pleasurable and doubled his efforts. She wanted to tell him to stop but her mouth was so dry, she didn’t think she could get the words out. It was incredible to her that he even had the energy for this, considering he had been drinking more than anyone. She vaguely recalled him passing out in a booth at the bar after an intense game of shot for shot with Viv.

“Richard, stop,” she croaked, pressing a hand to his chest to force him back. “I’m dying.”

The feeling of teeth scrapping at her collar stopped and she opened her eyes to see Richard hovering over her with a dopey smile on his face. It annoyed her that he wasn’t in as much physical pain as she was. He had a tolerance on her, that was obvious but she still assumed he would be spending the morning with his head in the toilet. She put her open hand over his face to block his grin.

“Come on, babe,” he said, the sound muffled by her palm. “We were both way to sloppy last night. I’m the one who’s dying.”

Therese pushed him off of her, glaring. As soon as they stepped out of the cab, last night, Richard had been all over her. He had been snoring in the backseat, then suddenly sprung back to life the second they were alone. It hadn’t been entirely unwanted, then. She was wasted and hadn’t minded his insistent kisses. She had hoped for a distraction from thinking about grey eyes and red lips but it hadn’t exactly worked. When they made it into her apartment, he had tripped over the rug the living room and taken her down with him. They landed in a heap by her old, thrift store, couch and had laughed at the carpet burn on his face for twenty minutes.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t care about Richard, she did or she wouldn’t have wasted the last year letting him call her his girlfriend. She just wondered why she never felt butterflies around him, had never been able to say with certainty that she loved him. He knew how he felt, was so sure of it that he had never been afraid to say as much. He was a good boyfriend – despite the clingy behavior that drove her crazy. Sometimes, like when they were nearly cry-laughing at four in the morning on the living room floor, she wanted to love him too.

“Sometimes, I think you only want me when you’re drunk,” he huffed, rolling onto his back.

Now was not one of those times.

“I’m sorry I’m hungover, Richard,” she grimaced, tossing the blankets off of her to get out of bed.

“It’s not just this one time,” he said, sitting back up. “We never have sex, anymore. You won’t even let me touch you.”

“You really want to have this fight right now? I just woke up,” she warned, gritting her teeth.

Therese slid her feet over the edge of the bed and stood, wanting to get away from him. He was acting like a child and she had no energy for this argument. She didn’t even have a reason for him, she just hadn’t been in the mood lately. Was that really such a crime? If he cared about her so much, shouldn’t he be able to understand that? It made her blood boil when he was like this.

She started towards the kitchen to get a drink and some Advil, her head throbbing now. The mattress creaked and she heard footsteps behind her. She whipped back around to face him, ready to tell him to leave. He must have seen the anger on her face and put up his hands in concession.

“Look, I’m sorry I said that,” he crept toward her, like he was afraid she would pounce if he made any sudden movements. “I just – I’ve been missing you lately. We’ll be right next to each other and it’s like you’re a thousand miles away.”

She crossed her arms, not knowing what to say. She still couldn’t explain the way she’d been feeling to him, mainly because it was a lack of feeling that was the problem.

“Can we just pretend I never said anything?” he implored, close enough to touch her and reaching out to put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Last night was amazing. Someone from an actual record label gave you her card. I don’t want to ruin all that with us fighting.”

Therese deflated. He was right. There was no point in it, especially when she had Carol’s card sitting in her shirt pocket from last night. Dragging this out with him would only waste time she could be using to call her.

“Fine,” she sighed, still backing away from his touch. “Do you want to make it up to me?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, hopefully.

“Make me breakfast,” she said with a smile, shoving him playfully. “Something greasy, or I really might die.”

Richard perked up at that, then without warning, he lifted her up by her hips, throwing her over his shoulder as she shrieked. “Coming right up, your majesty.”

Therese laughed as she hit his back with her fists, “Put me down! I’m going to barf!”

* * *

Richard left shortly after breakfast. His dad had called and said he needed him to come to work. The Semco’s owned a chain of department stores called Frankenberg's across southern California, which Richard was supposed to be preparing to take over in the future. His parents weren’t exactly thrilled with their band and always pushed him to continue training in management. Therese had only met them twice and both occasions had been awkward, at best.

The first time she’d gone to their house in Encino for dinner, they’d asked her how many children she wanted and offered her a job all in the first half hour.

Therese was washing the dishes, scraping egg off of the only pan she owned. As soon as Richard walked out the door, she had gone to get the card Carol had given her last night and now it was sitting on the counter next to her. She wanted to call but it was only ten and she didn’t want to come off desperate.

She imagined how someone like Carol must spend her mornings. She pictured her at some high end restaurant, having brunch, looking immaculate even on a Sunday morning. She thought of Carol’s half smile as she spoke, with that calm, husky drawl that had made Therese feel so weak last night.

Richard, her actual boyfriend, had never made her feel like that. She dropped the pan in the sink and stared at the card.

Therese inhaled slowly, closing her eyes and resting her hands on the counter. She had to stop thinking about this woman like that. Carol was their band’s shot at actually getting signed, to maybe stop working as a cashier at the Semco’s store and make music, like she’d always wanted. If getting over this infatuation - she supposed there was no other word for it – was going to get them a record deal, then that is what she would have to do. If Carol caught on to her weird feelings, she would never speak to Therese again, let alone have any interest in her band.

Resolve settled in her bones and she opened her eyes with a new confidence. She could to this. She really had to do this.

Therese dried her hands on the towel that hung on the stove and slid her phone out of the pocket of her pajama pants – she was still reluctant to actually get dressed for the day. Maybe calling her early would be a good move. Calling in the afternoon or at night seemed unprofessional, anyway. She still hoped it wouldn’t seem desperate of her to call the very next day. She flipped the phone open and stared at the screen with hesitance. Maybe it would show Carol that she was really serious, that she wanted this. Maybe she was overthinking it and now her hands were shaking and she needed to chill the fuck out.

‘She just wants your demo,’ Therese thought, taking another long placating breath before picking up the card off the counter. ‘She is just a manager who might be interested in your band. No pressure.’

Therese’s throat was tight as she dialed, the sound of each number’s tone making her heart thud harder in her chest. Then, it was ringing and she slowly pressed it to her ear. With her free hand she reached for the pan in the sink, hoping that putting it away would be some kind of distraction.

‘You are calling her because she could help your career.’

A painfully long amount of time passed, which she was sure was only seconds, then Therese heard a click.

“Hello, this is Carol Aird.”

‘Not because you really want to hear her voice.’

Therese dropped the pan to the floor.

* * *

It was almost noon and Carol would be picking her up any minute. Therese tried not to wait for her at the window like a dog. Instead she stress cleaned her living room and touched up her makeup – every five minutes or so, like a normal person.

She couldn’t help but be slightly mortified that Carol was going to see her horrible apartment, even if it was just from the outside. The place was ancient and falling apart. The railing on the steps to get into the building was so rusted it had been knocked off entirely at some point a few weeks ago and she was sure the neighborhood bum, Randy The Robot, was sitting out front with his usual tinfoil helmet, begging for change to help him prevent the oncoming war between humans and sentient technology.

God she needed to move. Richard’s offer to let her move in with him didn’t sound so bad when a man lived outside her apartment, beeping at her every morning as she left for work.

She moved to lift the couch cushions and vacuum underneath, when her phone buzzed. It was a text from Carol, telling her to come outside. Therese took a deep breath, fixing the collar of her navy button-up and re-rolling her sleeves. She ran her fingers through her hair, her heart pounding in her chest. She grabbed her wallet and the cd case containing their demo off the coffee table – wishing she was the type of person who owned a purse – and walked out the door.

Carol’s car looked like it cost more than everything Therese had ever owned in her life combined – which wasn’t much. It was a white BMW with black trim and it looked new. The windows were tinted and Therese couldn’t see the woman inside as she stepped up to the passenger’s side. She stood awkwardly on the sidewalk for a moment, not sure if she should just get in when the window rolled down and there was Carol, giving her an easy smile.

Therese was stunned by how beautiful she was in the daylight, outside of the dingy venue she’d seen her in on Saturday. Her hair was translucent in the sun, pulled back in an intricate bun, and her skin glowing a soft bronze. Black, large framed, sunglasses hid Carol’s eyes and Therese missed them immediately.

“Well, are you getting in?” Carol asked with that half smile and Therese unfroze, clearing her throat before opening the door and sliding in.

“This is the nicest car I’ve ever been in,” she said, trying to sound casual as she gawked at the leather interior and the little gold four-leaf clover that hung from a chain on her rearview mirror.

“Hello to you to,” Carol teased and Therese could feel her cheeks grow hot.

Carol shifted the car into drive and Therese couldn’t help but stare at the pale blue of her perfectly manicured nails on the gear selector. They slowly moved down the street, away from her embarrassing apartment.

“So a man with tin foil on his head tried to ask me if I had heard the good news about the robot war while I was waiting for you,” Carol said, glancing at her through the side of her sun glasses.

Therese could only groan, her head falling back against the seat while Carol laughed.

* * *

“Do you have any preference on lunch?” Carol asked when they were finally on the highway heading towards Los Angeles.

“Not really,” Therese replied, choosing to stare out the window than to potentially forget how words work while looking at Carol. “I’m not picky.”

Lunch hour traffic was beginning to build ahead of them and Carol slowed the car to a near stop. The asphalt simmered with heat and she glanced at the temperature gage on the dash and saw that it was nearly one hundred degrees. She silently cursed wearing something with sleeves, praying she wouldn’t be sweating to terribly when they arrived at the restaurant.

She had thought about wearing a long, flowing tank-top but that seemed unprofessional. Though, even in her nicest skinny jeans and button-up, she still looked like a hobo in comparison to Carol. She wore another gorgeous looking dress, this time tan and black with a high neckline.

“Well, there is this sushi place about ten minutes away – if this traffic ever lets up.” Carol said. “Do you like sushi?”

Therese had only had it once before and hadn’t exactly enjoyed it. She didn’t understand the appeal of raw fish.

“Yeah, I like it,” she lied anyway. Once again proving that she would go along with whatever Carol suggested. It wasn’t like she cared about the food anyway.

“Alright, sushi it is.”

They sat in silence as they inched along the highway. Therese knew she should speak, wanted to but couldn’t find the words. Instead she watched the world roll, lazily, past them out the window and preoccupied herself with tugging at a frayed string on her shirtsleeve. Carol kept her eyes on the road ahead, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to whatever song was quietly playing on the radio around them. Occasionally, as though she could feel Therese’s nerves, knew that she thought her silence was boring her, Carol would smile at her.

It was strange that the air in the car could be both awkward and comfortable all at once.

* * *

It was relatively quiet at the restaurant, whose name Therese couldn’t pronounce. There were only a few tables taken as their waiter lead them to a booth near the back. The place was really nice, long fish tanks lining the dining area and low, ambient lighting. Therese wondered if it really was as fancy as she thought – she considered ordering food at a bar to be a special occasion, so she probably didn’t have the best taste.

They sat across from each other, Carol setting her clutch down next to her and crossing her legs. The waiter began listing their drink specials and Therese could only focus on Carol, her grey eyes looking up at him, the way she rested her chin on the backs of her index and middle fingers as she ordered a dry martini. They looked to her to order and she apparently hadn’t realized that was kind of an expectation. She quickly flipped open the menu and drew a blank. She heard Carol’s musical laugh and looked up to see her watching her with an amused grin.

“You really are indecisive,” Carol said. “You’ve had sake before, haven’t you?”

“No,” she replied, slowly closing her menu in shame. She silently swore that next time – if there was a next time – they were out, she would prove she was actually capable of ordering something.

“We’ll have a carafe of sake, instead of the martini. Something dry.”

The waiter nodded and left to fetch their drinks. Therese had no idea what sake tasted like but again she trusted Carol’s judgment.

“It pairs well with the sushi,” Carol explained, opening her own menu. “If you don’t like it, we can get you something else.”

“I’m sure I’ll like it,” Therese said.

“So, I was thinking about that song of yours,” Carol said, glancing up at her. “I may have had it stuck in my head, actually. Have you written many others?”

The thought of Carol going about her day with Therese’s words in her head made her dizzy. She wondered if Carol was just being nice.

“Too many to count,” Therese admitted, running a hand through her hair, unable to look Carol in the eye. “They probably aren’t any good. I guess I just got lucky with that one.”

She regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth. Shouldn’t she be talking herself up? Carol wouldn’t be interested in a girl with the capacity to write one decent song. It was difficult to control her honest word vomit around the other woman.

“I doubt that,” Carol assured, watching her fully now. “I’d be willing to bet they are all just as wonderful.”

Therese couldn’t hold her gaze, staring down at her menu in an attempt to hide her blush. She wondered what Carol saw in her.

“Thank you,” she said, wishing she knew how to vocalize her real gratitude. “You know, most of our songs are written by our bassist, Dannie. He’s been helping me structure mine and we collaborated on a few of the tracks on our demo. He’s the really talented one.”

The waiter returned before Carol could reply, setting down the carafe and two small ceramic cups in front of them. He asked if they were ready to order and of course Therese wasn’t.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having,” Therese said, then turned to give Carol a timid grin. “We both know I don’t know what I want.”

Carol laughed and it was better than any song Therese could have written. She ordered them some kind of tempura sushi and a few others Therese had never heard of before. To be honest, she only really knew that a California roll was a thing.

After the waiter left again, Carol began pouring the sake into one of the cups, handing the first one to Therese.

“So, Therese, tell me about yourself. I think the only things I know about you are music related,” Carol took a sip, watching her from over the rim.

Therese suddenly felt like the most boring person on the planet. In comparison to Carol, she already knew everything she could say would probably be entirely uninteresting. She picked up her own cup with both hands, carefully bringing it to her lips and taking a drink. The burn was intense and she nearly choked as it slid down her throat. A muted cough escaped her and she tried to hide it behind her closed fist.

“Well I’ve lived in that gorgeous apartment you saw for the last two years and before that I lived almost everywhere in California. My foster parents couldn’t stay in one place for more than a year, so we moved a lot,” Therese began, wondering if it was awkward to bring up her unconventional upbringing right away. “Umm, I work at Frankenberg’s as a cashier right now – which is just as fulfilling as everyone thinks it is.”

Carol chuckled at that and Therese smiled. “I’ve been writing poetry since I was a kid and I started playing guitar when I was - thirteen, I think?” she trailed off, not sure what else to say. “That’s the gist of my life, I guess.”

Carol hummed in response, taking another sip. “Do you live alone, in that _gorgeous_ apartment of yours?”

“Yes and no,” Therese replied. “My bandmates are there a lot, even when I don’t want them to be and we all live in the same area.”

Richard, of course, was there the most. He’d asked her to move in with him on more than one occasion but she’d declined. Her apartment had a lot of traffic but it was still hers and she liked to have her own space to just be alone sometimes.

She wondered if she should tell Carol that he was her boyfriend but decided against it. There wasn’t really a point to it and the delusional part of her that she was actively trying to quiet, didn’t want Carol knowing she was in a relationship.

“So you are all very close,” Carol surmised, her eyes flickering in the low light. “Did you know each other long before starting the band?”

The sushi arrived then, the waiter setting out four small plates and two sets of chopsticks – which Therese was almost certain she didn’t know how to use. Another embarrassment to add to today. Carol thanked him as he left, then broke apart her own chopsticks. She asked if Therese needed more sake and she finished hers in a quick gulp that made her eyes water, before saying yes. Carol looked at her curiously, amusement in the tiny quirk of her lips. She leaned forward slightly to pour and Therese caught the heavenly scent of her perfume, a rich blend of dark musk with a sweetness to it. It was unlike anything she’d ever smelled and suited her perfectly.

She tried to hide her sudden paralysis by shifting back in her seat but Carol was looking at her with her head tilted to the side in question.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, her voice calm and smooth as ever.

“Oh – um, it’s just,” Therese stammered, trying to locate a viable excuse and failing. “Your perfume - it smells amazing.”

Carol smiled, bringing her fingers to her neck as if to show it to Therese. “Thank you. My ex-husband bought it for me a long time ago and I’ve never been able to find anything I liked better.”

“You were married,” Therese said suddenly, then flushed at the realization that she had stated the obvious. “I mean, have you been separated for a long time?”

“No,” Carol replied, looking past Therese for a moment. “We actually finalized our divorce in the spring.”

“I’m sorry,” Therese didn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be. It was for the best,” Carol said, looking down at the plates in front of them like she had just remembered they were there.

“Things have been – less than ideal, with the custody plan for our daughter, Rindy, but other than that, it was necessary.”

She had a daughter. The admission made something bubble in Therese’s chest.

“How old is she?” she asked.

“She’s four but she’ll be five in the fall,” Carol replied and she glowed suddenly, talking about her daughter.

Therese pictured a little girl with Carol’s blonde hair and pale eyes, maybe the same nose or brow. She thought Rindy must be beautiful, just like her mother.

Carol picked up her chopsticks and chose one of the pieces of sushi with some kind of green paste inside and bit into it. Therese stared at the plates and attempted to secure her own chopsticks. It was a clumsy mess and she was sure she had no idea what to do. One fell to the table with a clack and Carol looked up at her, a knowing grin forming on her lips.

“You don’t know how to use them,” Carol said and Therese felt like a failure.

“Well, it’s just been awhile and I-” she rambled before sighing in defeat. “Not even a little.”

"Here, let me show you."

The shock beneath Therese’s skin when Carol leaned across the table to touch her hand sent a tremor down her spine. She watched, frozen in place and trying to remember to breathe as Carol carefully set the utensil back in her hand, showing her how to line them up along her fingers. Carol laughed when Therese didn’t get it the first few times, but not unkindly. She was patient, her skin so warm against Therese’s.

“See, now you just pinch – like that!” Carol exclaimed, something like pride in her voice as Therese clumsily managed to pick up a piece of sushi. They both shared a smile and Therese wasn’t sure her heart would ever stop pounding.

She thanked Carol, before triumphantly popping the sushi in her mouth, momentarily forgetting she didn’t like it. She chewed once, then coughed, trying desperately not to gag at the terrible raw fish taste. It was worse than she remembered and it took a few mortifying moments to swallow it down.

Carol was staring at her when she looked up.

“I may have lied about liking sushi.”

“Really?” Carol laughed, hard – the sound filling up the otherwise quiet restaurant. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Therese’s cheeks were still burning when she saw Carol grab her clutch and open it, pulling out more cash than this meal could possibly cost and set it on the table. She stood and for a brief, terrible, moment, Therese thought she had ruined everything.

“There is a diner down the street,” Carol said, her eyes bright. “Let’s go have a meal you will actually be able to eat.”

“Oh, no. I’m fine, really,” Therese started, jumping up after her and slamming her hip into the table in her haste. “I seriously lied to you for no reason. I can’t let you take me somewhere else.”

Carol stared at her for a long moment, a quiet wonder on her face.

“What a strange girl you are.”

“Why?” Therese choked, thinking of a million valid reasons.

Carol simply smiled, slipping her arm through Therese’s and leading her out of the restaurant.

“Flung out of space.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! as always, thank you so much for reading! this chapter was kind of a beast to write but I've finally got the majority of the story super planned out - I have an insane amount of notes btw lol - and I am so excited for everything coming up!
> 
> also shout out to [this beautiful person](http://basmeblr.tumblr.com/post/138612828969/au-in-which-therese-is-the-guitarist-in-a-band-and) who actually made an edit for this fic! I literally couldn't stop smiling all day because of this, thank you so much!! you guys should go give them some love because it is seriously great :D


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